Chapter 17

17

They arrived at Sumhall,and Richard guided Jane into the spacious entryway, the marble underfoot echoing the clicking heels of their shoes.

“Teanby,” Richard addressed the butler, “would you please inform my sister that her presence is requested here? And this is Miss Grant’s maid, Ruby. Would you please make sure she gets tea in the servants’ hall?”

“Of course, my lord.” Teanby bowed and looked at Ruby, who lingered behind Jane, then he swiftly exited the room.

They waited in the beautiful drawing room where only a few days ago Jane had met the Seatons. Jane tried to smooth out the creases in her dress, her fingers trembling slightly. Richard reached out and took her hand as if to offer comfort, though the contact made her feel even more unsettled. She was nervous to see Calliope once again. Richard’s sister knew him very well and could uncover their lie with just a few good questions.

Soon, the sound of rustling silk signaled Calliope’s arrival. A vision in a cream-colored dress, her auburn hair curled softly around her face, she entered the drawing room, head held high, bright eyes scrutinizing Jane.

“Miss Grant,” Calliope greeted with a polite smile. “Richard, you called?” she asked, her voice laced with intrigue as she reached them.

“Indeed, Calliope,” Richard said. “We find ourselves in need of your assistance.”

Calliope’s eyes flicked from her brother to Jane to their clasped hands, barely restrained curiosity infusing her expression. “And how may I be of service?”

Richard’s grip on Jane’s hand tightened reassuringly. “Jane requires a dress for tonight’s soirée. We encountered some…difficulty with the modiste in town. I wondered if you might have a frock Jane could wear tonight, something that can be altered for her, of course. It’s short notice, I know, and you must be busy, but—”

A look of concern crossed Calliope’s face as she turned her attention back to Jane. “Oh, how dreadful! Well, we must rectify that. I would be more than delighted to assist you, Miss Grant.”

Jane’s heart swelled. She liked Lady Calliope more and more, though she reminded herself to be wary of the woman’s sharp mind. “No, please, I’m sure Lady Calliope is busy,” Jane said.

“Oh, please call me Calliope,” she said. “We’re about to become sisters!”

Jane smiled at her. No, they weren’t. But Calliope didn’t need to know that. “In that case, please call me Jane.”

Calliope reached out to Jane and squeezed her free hand. “I have several that will suit your pretty coloring. You’re shorter than me, and a little smaller in the bust and shoulders, but that’s better than if you were bigger. I’ll call on my modiste, Mrs. Newman. For a good price, she’d be happy to lend a hand or send one of her girls. They’re all excellent. She’s not as fashionable as Madame Dubois, and she doesn’t come from Paris. But she’s fast, and her dresses are just as good. And she’s a joy to work with. Teanby!” she called the butler.

Before Jane could protest that she didn’t need to be fussed about like that, Teanby entered the room, and Calliope asked him to send a footman in the carriage with a note and instructions not to leave without either Mrs. Newman or one of her ladies.

Then she asked him to send her lady’s maid up to her room along with any other maids that could be spared and to bring a tray with tea, lemonade, biscuits, and sandwiches enough to keep them all afloat for hours of work.

“And after the ball, I will make an appointment with Mrs. Newman, and she will prepare all the dresses you need.”

Something thawed in Jane’s chest. It was heartwarming that not only Richard cared for her but also Calliope. She wasn’t being rejected by all the ton, after all. These two, as well as the dowager duchess, seemed to have welcomed her with open arms. It would take a little longer to win over the duke himself, but, understandably, his issue with Jane wasn’t her background. Rather, it was that Thorne was directly mixed up in Spencer’s disappearance.

They went up to Calliope’s bedchamber, and Jane immediately felt at ease there. It was a large and pretty room, set in very pale orange and green tones that complemented Calliope’s blue eyes and auburn hair. And just like in Jane’s room, there were shelves of books. She’d always known having a bookcase in her bedchamber was an eccentricity, but Thorne allowed it, wanting Jane to feel welcome and at home.

Jane skimmed over the spines. There were several books on chess strategy, but also crime novels and private inquiry stories. Jane’s eyebrows rose as she glanced at Calliope, who looked smart and sharp but also sweet and kind. “Do you like sleuth stories?”

A maid and a footman came in with two large trays filled with teacups, a teapot, and plates of biscuits, macarons, scones, and sandwiches. While they set everything on a round tea table in the center of the room, Calliope said, “Oh yes. I’ve read everything about murders, robberies, burglaries, and disappearances since I was a child.”

“A child?” Jane chuckled. “Your mama allowed you to read them?”

“No.” Calliope shrugged. “But ever since I learned how to read, I have had a habit of sneaking into the library and reading things I shouldn’t.”

Jane laughed. “I wasn’t quite so brave as you, but I did read anything I could get my hands on.”

“Feel free to borrow any books you like,” she said. “My favorite is The Inquiry Agency Chronicles.”

“Thank you!” said Jane, finding the book and opening it. “I will.”

The footman left, and the maid together with Calliope laid out three dresses that they thought would suit Jane’s coloring. The first one was a silvery-white frock with gauze as thin as spiderweb around the skirt. The second one was pale blue with thin and floaty fabric, short, puffed sleeves, and a low neckline. The third one was creamy, with pearls and lace over the bust.

“Which one do you like, Jane?” asked Calliope, studying them.

“This one,” said Jane, gesturing to the silvery one.

“Oh, I agree,” said Calliope. She picked it up and held it against Jane’s body, looking her over. “Oh yes, quite. It makes your eyes so bright and so…alive! Put it on and we’ll start adjusting it. I have gloves that fit it so well.”

When Jane emerged from the dressing room in Calliope’s frock and looked at herself in the mirror, she suppressed a small gasp. The silver did bring out her eyes, even with her spectacles, and it complemented her skin tone, making it look healthier and bringing out the color of her cheeks. It even made her lips brighter, redder.

Mrs. Newman arrived, a beautiful fifty-year-old woman with kind eyes and impeccable taste.

“Thank you for coming, Mrs. Newman,” said Calliope.

“Of course, anything for my favorite client,” Mrs. Newman said. “And, of course, a suitable reflection in my bill,” she added with a chuckle.

“You are worth every pound,” said Calliope. “Now, this is my future sister-in-law, Jane. As I explained in my note, this is urgent. She never came out because her papa died, and tonight is her first proper introduction in the ton. So she must look her best, absolutely stunning and beautiful, just as she deserves.”

Mrs. Newman looked Jane over with a businesslike glint in her eyes. She put down her small case, opened it, and began to work. As she measured, pinned, made marks with a piece of soap, instructed Calliope’s maid to hand her more pins, and asked Jane to turn, raise her arms, and so on, Calliope and Jane kept talking.

The conversation flowed easily, and Jane found herself telling Calliope about her school, about the children, and the situation in Whitechapel. Calliope promised she’d contribute, too.

“Do you intend to keep teaching after the wedding?” asked Calliope. “I can’t imagine that you would wish to abandon such an important task.”

“I do intend to continue teaching,” said Jane as she raised her arm and Mrs. Newman pinned the dress under her armpit. “Actually, I’d like to expand the school, hire more teachers—proper teachers with experience—and have several classes.”

“That is wonderful. Knowing Richard, I believe he would support you in that.”

“He’d better,” murmured Jane, even though she knew he probably would not. No husband would.

Calliope picked up a scone and took a small bite. “I understand your ambition,” she said thoughtfully. “I do have one myself.”

“Oh?” asked Jane. She didn’t think ladies of the ton had any ambitions other than marrying the best match they could make. “What is it?”

Calliope sighed. “Mrs. Newman, Abigail, not a word to anyone.”

Both nodded. “My lips are sealed. Seamstress’s word,” said Mrs. Newman.

“I’d like to become a sleuth. To open my own agency.”

Jane couldn’t quite find her voice. “A sleuth?” she finally asked.

“Yes. And please don’t tell me I read too many crime novels like my brothers did.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?” asked Jane. “And not done by women?”

Calliope’s eyes blazed excitedly. “Exactly! But think about it, no one believes a woman can do this. But Spencer taught me boxing. Richard and Preston taught me fencing. I can defend myself if I must, but even more important is the ability to outsmart villains. Everyone underestimates women. Criminals will overlook me as insignificant, to their detriment.”

Jane admired how confident Calliope was, how ready she was to pursue her vision and do what pleased her, despite what society expected.

“I’m impressed,” she said. “But what about the Bow Street Runners? Aren’t they already doing that?”

“They’re often disorganized and they rarely solve anything. And yet, property is stolen, people disappear…some are even killed. And no one, except for the victims and those close to them, can help. So, I’d like to.”

Jane felt a pang of empathy towards Calliope. They were more alike than she could have believed. Perhaps if she found her soulmates in the ton, this world wouldn’t be as harsh and unwelcoming as she had thought, after all.

“How remarkable, Calliope,” she said as Mrs. Newman asked her to turn and worked on her back. “I think you’re very brave, and you know what you’re doing.”

“First, we need to find Spencer,” Calliope said, turning to gaze out the window with a worried look on her face. “Then I can open my agency and help others.” She turned back to Jane, her brow smoothing. “I’m so glad you’re going to be my sister,” she said. “And I can see how fond Richard is of you.”

Jane’s cheeks felt like they had burst into flames. “You can?”

“Yes. He said he’s in love, and I didn’t believe him at first.” She narrowed her eyes, and Jane had a sense of being examined under a magnifying glass. “But I can see how he straightens and how his eyes brighten when you’re around.”

“You can undress now,” said Mrs. Newman. “I’ll work for an hour or so on your dress and then it should be ready.”

Jane’s fingers fumbled with the hooks of the dress, and Abigail stepped forward to help. Jane’s heart hammered in her chest like a wild animal trying to break free. Richard had consumed her thoughts since the moment she met him—albeit at first in irritation. She couldn’t help wishing things could be different for them.

Surely he didn’t feel the same way, she told herself as Abigail worked on the dress.

But he had protected her in front of the modiste, and he had shown her Reuben’s note, and now he had asked for Calliope’s help. Didn’t that show he cared?

Yes, he had betrayed her trust when he’d snuck into Thorne’s study, but if she was honest with herself, she would have probably done the same thing in his place to protect her brother. Richard hadn’t wanted to hurt her.

She felt exposed and vulnerable but also alive and exhilarated. Jane’s heart thrummed in her chest. Was it just her imagination that made her feel more alive with him present in the room? She couldn’t get him out of her head, but did he feel the same way about her?

“Just please don’t break his heart,” Calliope said. “Not after what Lady Charity did. Not again.”

“I’ll be careful,” she promised, her voice barely a whisper as she wrestled with her treacherous thoughts. She felt so much more for him than she wanted to. The way her heart swelled when he looked at her, the way his lips tasted when she kissed him… The idea of hurting him, of shattering the trust he placed in her…it was unbearable. Only, it seemed, she was in at least as much danger of being left brokenhearted when their ruse was over.